Not a Fighting Chance
by storyseamstress95
Summary: Hermione is kidnapped by Severus Snape on the day she steals the eggs from the chicken coop. Triumphant, he tortures her for Harry's whereabouts. This is not a romance between Hermione and Severus, and there will be no sex scenes. Please read! :)
1. Chapter One

_Author's Note: Firstly, thank you for taking the time to read this, it means a lot! Secondly, since I have no idea yet where this is going, it IS rated T now, but could possibly be changed to M… So, that may happen. And thirdly, since I, again, have no idea where this is going, suggestions are very much welcome! I write this only for people to read and enjoy it! Anywho, enjoy the first chapter of Not a Fighting Chance. :)_

Hermione was blind. At least, that how it seemed to her. She opened her eyes as widely as she could and blinked several times, still unable to see anything. It probably didn't help that she could feel a dense cloth covering her eyes. Her head throbbed in the most miraculous way and her bum and back were freezing. She slid her big toe along the floor and came upon a crack. Too see if there were anymore, she cautiously slid her foot a little more around and came to the conclusion that they must be tiles. Stone ones at that since that's the way it felt against her feet. Also, she was barefoot. Some bastard had taken her shoes.

She sighed and wished she had her sight back so she would know a little more definitely where she was. She sniffed the air and it smelled dank in her nostrils, the floor also a little damp. At a complete loss of where she could be, she gave up the mystery and traveled on to the last events she remembered.

She had gone to a nearby chicken coop from where they had set up camp and stole some chicken eggs. After carefully placing money under a nest she had taken some eggs from, she walked out and felt something collide with her head. The nanosecond before she passed out was the thought that the farmer who owned the coop had found her trespassing and hit her for it.

Now she wondered and worried about Ron and Harry. Hermione wasn't too conceited to believe that they couldn't survive without her, but not stupid enough to disillusion herself into thinking that it would be easy for them. She shook her head to herself slightly and pain radiated even more throughout her skull. She groaned slightly and heard what sounded like iron sliding across the stone floor. Her ears pricked up in alertness and she sensed heavy footfalls coming towards her. They paused and she heard a sharp intake of breath. With hands that seemed gentler than a goaler would be towards his prisoner, someone unlocked the shackles that Hermione hadn't even noticed were binding her hands. They lifted her off the ground and led her forward, and Hermione could finally see some light coming faintly through the blindfold that shielded her eyes.

"Stairs," came a voice shortly that Hermione could recognize from anywhere. But it couldn't be him…

Soon Hermione could see plenty of light and her first stupid thought was, "Thank God I haven't really gone blind." Her next thought was, "Where am I?"

This question was quickly answered when the blindfold came off and she was left to blink out the sudden light. Standing in front of her was a face she wanted to instantly recoil from. Her second instinct was to hex him. Her third and best instinct was to give a sneer that befit his crimes and rivaled his own sneers.

It wasn't like her, but it seemed to fit the situation.

Sensing her hostility, he smirked as well and, cutting right to the chase, asked, "Where is Potter?"

She looked swiftly around the room and found no one else there. It surprised her that neither the Dark Lord nor Bellatrix would even be here to interrogate the woman closest to Harry Potter at that moment. The thought flashed through her mind quickly as a comet that maybe they didn't know she was there. But that was absurd; he would have to tell his master, for his master was a highly skilled Legillimens and would be able to find the truth in a matter of seconds if he suspected for a moment he was hiding something.

The more reasonable explanation was that Bellatrix was off with her sister and that Voldemort didn't want to deal with such a minor interrogation at the moment; maybe he was hunting something else for the time being.

She pushed all these thoughts away and concentrated on the question he had so elegantly posed her.

Where was Harry exactly?

Mayhaps, once he had clubbed her and dragged her off to Malfoy Manor he had set sentries around the place where he had found her so that if Harry and Ron had gone looking, they could find the both of them. She hoped that they had just cut their losses and left immediately, setting up camp somewhere else. At least, that's what the logical part hoped. Her more tender side hoped that they had gallantly tried to look for and save her, even if it meant capture. Oh, she hoped Ron was sick with grief and worry for her sake!

She composed her face into something she hoped was mostly innocent and said, in a very truthful manner, "I haven't the slightest idea where they are."

For she didn't. She had no idea if it had been a few hours, a day, or a week. And if it was the latter, they were sure to be somewhere she did not know of.

His lip curled and he said, "Wrong answer."

He flicked his wand and immediately she could feel cold marble underneath her which was slightly soothing to her nerves which seemed to be on fire. The curse lifted sooner than she thought it would and she was surprised to feel cool tears on her cheeks. Had she truly been crying?

Her pride faltered slightly at the thought of crying in front of this man. Hermione had never really stopped and considered whether she thought herself weak; she considered it now. Had Harry ever cried when put under the Cruciatus curse? She had seen it before, and couldn't recall whether he had cried.

She took a deep breath and picked herself up off the floor. She stood and faced him properly, planting her feet on the ground. She eyed him carefully and thought that maybe if she was as blunt as he was, she could gain some grain of respect and worm her way out of this.

"Where's my wand?" she asked, hoping her eyes were glinting dangerously enough. He stared at her for a moment and then threw his head back to give a derisive bark of laughter. It was short lived and he stared straight at her when he was finished.

"Did you really believe I would give you back your wand and let you go with a pat on your head if you stood up to me?" he asked, the laughter and contempt not wholly gone from his voice. Hermione scowled slightly and asked again, "Where is my wand?"

"Don't be insubordinate; answer _my_ question. Where is Potter?" he asked threateningly.

I could feel my face falling and said, "I have absolutely no idea."

He scrutinized me for a minute and said in a low and dangerous voice, "Perhaps a day or two in the cellar without food will loosen your tongue."

Hermione tilted her chin up proudly and said, "Even if I did know, I would never tell."

His lip curled again and he intoned, "We'll see."

He grabbed her arm roughly and led Hermione down to the dank, dark cellar to rot, totally alone.


	2. Chapter Two

Severus Snape considered himself to be a shrewd man of some intelligence, but he had done a stupid thing. It was by pure chance that he had found Miss Granger stealing from a lowly farmer, and he took the opportunity to club her over the head. This was profoundly idiotic on so many levels, Severus didn't even know where to start.

On the most superficial level, why hadn't he used his wand, the tool that should have been primal instinct? Instead he had ripped a post from the battered fence and sneaked up behind her to knock her out. Secondly, why hadn't he followed her back to whatever camp she had set with Potter and captured all three of them there? Of course it wouldn't have been much of a capturing, since he needed to tell Potter things and keep him as far away from the Dark Lord as possible.

But Granger was a different instance. He hadn't promised Albus, hadn't promised Lily, that he would take care of the silly, frizzy-haired, buck-toothed girl. Was she still buck-toothed? Severus couldn't recall. He waved his wand to ward off the invisible thoughts and focused on the matter at hand.

He hadn't called the Dark Lord when she had captured her, which had still been the stupidest thing he had done. What did it matter if the girl was disposed of? She was just another annoying, know-it-all student who couldn't keep her trap shut to save her life. Well, except for this instance when her lips were completely sealed against him.

Perhaps it was the fact that she was Muggleborn and as bright and talented as Lily that softened him toward her. He shook his head and tried to think practically.

He needed to move her. As long as she was in Malfoy Manor, his secret wasn't safe. For the time being, it was. He had her in a cellar different from the one they were keeping Ollivander in so that no one, not even one of the prisoners would be witness to her presence at the house. Oh, he was treading in deep waters indeed.

Spinner's End was definitely the best solution. He could transform his workshop into a holding cell until he got the necessary information from Granger. And then he could let her go, hopefully for her, unscathed. He cared not whether she got hurt in the process; he needed her knowledge of Potter's whereabouts.

He was ready to pull his hair out. Years of espionage, only to come to this; the possibility that Potter may not even get the message he needed to die. That all of his hard work wouldn't even come to fruition, would merely slip away and evade him as easily as Potter evaded the Dark Lord now. He had to grudgingly respect the little tosser; he would have possibly made a good Death Eater, if only the Dark Lord didn't want him dead. And if he could control his temper.

Potter had the worst, unruly, unchecked temper he had ever known. Dimly in the back of his mind he wondered whether it was hate of his father that prejudiced him against the boy, but as he knew only too well, father and son were always alike.

He shuddered to think how much he was like his own father. He had a violent temper like his father, like Potter (he hated to think that), but unlike the both of them he knew how to keep his anger in check. He could turn his heart cold against the hate, the oppression, and the constant strain of his double life. Lately it had gotten easier because now he didn't have to play openly for Dumbledore anymore. Now he could appear full evil, like the one-dimensional piece of cardboard most of the Death Eaters were cut out of.

All but Narcissa. She wasn't really a Death Eater, but she condoned the behavior of her husband. But there was something softer about Narcissa than the others. She had a heart.

Which was why he was in love with her.

Oh, she never had the innocence or fire of Lily, whom he still dearly loved. But that love had faded, atrophied over the years, and in its place was a fond remembrance for her bright and lovely youth. He could still remember the way she said "Sev". He cherished the sound of it, playing it over and over in his mind occasionally when he particularly pined for her presence. But that was a secret he would take to the grave.

But while he still faintly loved Lily, he could honestly say that during this war he had begun to respect the cold shrewdness of Narcissa and the heart that she lovingly bestowed upon her son, her son that she would protect no matter what. He saw himself in Narcissa, but in an obviously more attractive body than he could ever hope to achieve.

She was intelligent, quick with an insult like he, but also kinder. He could see from the corner of his eye that she was remarkably kind to her boy, respectful to her husband, affectionate with her sister, and much sweeter to the elves than her husband and son were. She could never reach the heights of sympathy that Granger had acquired for the creatures, but she seemed to respect them slightly nonetheless.

There were hearts kinder than hers for sure though. And faces more attractive and minds even wittier than hers, which Severus was hard put to find. But for some reason, he was drawn to her, like an animalistic instinct bound him mind, heart, and soul to her.

He figured it was just his luck that he should love another woman he could never have. For he knew full well she would never leave her husband.

He sighed and shoved Narcissa from his mind and focused on the task at hand. The girl.

He had brought her in when he knew no one was home, and had interrogated her a couple hours later in the same visit. He doubted whether he would be able to sneak into the house when everyone had left again. It had to be done under the cover of night.

And he would do it tonight.

_Author's Note: Hope you guys liked! Comment on what you want to see and what you liked or didn't like. Until next chapter! :)_


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